Early Retirement
by ferox
Summary: A short, sweet examination of a post-Hogwarts, post-war HarryDraco relationship that left everything behind. (complete)


**Early Retirement  
  
**

  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Rating: PG-13   
Feedback: Welcomed  
Disclaimer: Harry, Draco, and co all belong to JK Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Brothers, of course. The lyrics to "Galapagos" belong to The Smashing Pumpkins and apparently Virgin Records.   
Author's Notes:  Originally for the not-a-songfic challenge, turned into a normal, if very small plotbunny examining possible dynamics of a post-Hogwarts Draco/Harry relationship.   
  
  
Harry sang tunelessly along with the Muggle radio, dancing a dish across the kitchen with his wand.   
  
"How can you stand to listen to that?" Draco draped himself across the doorway, watching his lover with amusement in his eyes, catching the dish and putting it away by hand out of force of habit. He'd long since gotten over the urge to feel bitter that only one of them was permitted a wand. "We pretend to be Muggles, Potter, that's the deal. We're not required to actually indulge in Muggle thi-mph!" The blonde's tirade was rudely interrupted by a damp dishcloth in the face. Peeling it off and stalking past the snickering ex-Auror, Draco towel-whipped Harry's arse sharply.   
  
Harry yipped. "At least I don't go around snapping towels like it's some sort of team shower."   
  
"And at least I'm not still a child." Draco smirked, picking up a glass and beginning to dry, softly snickering to himself.   
  
"I thought I proved I wasn't last night."   
  
"Perhaps I'd have remembered, then, if you'd still been there when I woke up."   
  
Harry snorted. "Would have been if you hadn't stolen all the covers, you prat."   
  
"You had only to look under them to find me, and I assure you I would not have objected to a little morning reminder of our mutual accommodation." Draco drew himself up to his full height, which was, unfortunately, no taller than Harry's.   
  
"Blanket hogs don't deserve morning blow jobs, Malfoy." Harry leaned over, stealing a kiss off his cheek.   
  
"Not even if I praise your talents to the skies?" Draco glanced at Harry sidelong, his fingers stilling on the glass.   
  
"Not even then."   
  
"What if I developed some sort of terrible problem with my libido that required unceasing masturbation until I chafed myself raw? Would you pull the covers off then and rescue me?" Draco's eyes were wide and guileless, the glass and towel both clutched to his chest with an air of innocence.   
  
Harry groaned, letting his face fall into his hands.   
  
Draco pried Harry's fingers away, peering up at him with a smile of pure mischief. "For the sake of buggering you senseless the next night and all," he explained.   
  
"That, I believe, is blackmail, Malfoy," Harry said as sternly as he could manage, but couldn't help smiling at it--just a little. "Are you sure you wouldn't still bugger me senseless if I didn't rescue you in the morning?"   
  
"Well," Draco said, looking Harry up and down, clearly wavering.   
  
"Tell me you could resist this?" Very deliberately, Harry placed Draco's hands over his arse, rubbing up against the blond's body.   
  
"Well, I won't deny the pain would be great," Draco said slowly, a glint forming in the depths of his eyes, fingers flexing. "You'd have to make it up to me afterwards."   
  
"Maybe I won't let you take that risk then."   
  
"Oh but how can you deny the kind of opportunity that's giving you?"   
  
"Opportunity? Come off it, Malfoy!"   
  
"Don't tell me you never want to switch, give it to me like a man for a change?"   
  
There was a sudden awkward silence as Harry blushed brightly, and wouldn't meet Draco's eyes.   
  
"You're kidding," Draco said suddenly, softly. Harry shook his head, but leaned into the embrace when Draco wrapped warm arms around him, resting his head in the crook of the blond's shoulder. "You never told me." And he hadn't questioned why he always seemed to end up on top--since Harry never seemed to mind.   
  
"What's there to tell?" Harry asked quietly, tracing a hand over Draco's shoulder, smiling just a little. "I'm the hero of the wizarding world, aren't I? It's a lot of responsibility." His voice trailed off for a moment, and he turned his head to press a kiss to Draco's throat. "Should I announce it to everyone? That I need someone to be with who doesn't expect me to be in control? At all?"   
  
Draco looked down at what little of Harry's profile he could see, and pulled him closer. "I would imagine that your fall from grace would be inevitable at that point?" He asked dryly.   
  
Harry sighed. "Especially if they found out I was here with you. And they will--eventually. They probably would have found Sirius here if he hadn't gone back to England."   
  
"Shh," Draco said, sliding a hand up to cradle Harry's head against his palm.   
  
Neither spoke for long minutes, swaying together gently to the song on the radio, yet another soulless piece of pop that neither would remember after it ended. Or perhaps they were swaying to each others' heartbeats. When Harry spoke again, his voice was almost lost beneath the music. "Will you leave me too?"   
  
"No," Draco said, with quiet conviction.  
  
"Would you still have run away with me if the Ministry hadn't sentenced you to Azkaban?" Harry's voice was very small.   
  
Draco's arms tightened. "Yes. Even then. They carve out your heart on the stand, Harry. They try to break you before they've proven you're guilty--they don't wait."  
  
"I know," Harry said. "It's what they did to Sirius too."   
  
"It's what they'll do to you when they find out," Draco warned--he warned Harry away at least once a week "This isn't a game--it's for keeps."   
  
Harry smiled. "I'm counting on it, Malfoy. I've had enough heroing--if he comes back for a third go, they can take care of him themselves."   
  
"That's awfully Slytherin of you." Draco felt his lips tugging upwards at the edges.   
  
"Mm," Harry hummed, burrowing into Draco's chest. "Done being a Gryffindor too. Someone else can be the brave one now."   
  
"I hope you're not expecting me to take over that role," Draco said, vaguely offended.   
  
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry mumbled into his neck. "You'd look awful in red and gold."   
  
"Excuse me? I look stylish in everything."   
  
Harry smirked. "Even a Gryffindor scarf?"   
  
"No," Draco said. "That's just tacky."   
  
Harry snickered quietly.   
  
Outside, a bird with brilliant plumage landed, but there was no letter tied to its leg. Not this time. If they ever felt the need to communicate with the wizarding world again, it would be there, enchantments on. But until they did--it was just another bird in paradise.  

***  

Feedback is always welcome at ferox@contortus.net or cave_canem on lj. 


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